Our arrival in camp, during the afternoon, was the signal for a general rejoicing among the men, who loudly applauded the determination and pluck shown by Jerry in pursuing and overtaking the thieves.

My first inquiry was for Hal and Ned, and was told that they had gone out after a flock of wild turkeys that had been heard clucking in the pecan trees, not far from camp. They had taken their guns with them, and expected to be back by noon.

Thinking they would soon return, I went over to consult with Don Ignacio about resuming our journey; but, as the water and grass were much better where we then were than at the next stopping-place, the California Springs, it was decided to remain encamped until morning.

Accepting an invitation to dine with Don Ignacio. I did not return to my own camp until about five o’clock, when I learned, to my surprise, that the boys had not put in an appearance.

Calling Jerry, I asked if he supposed any accident could have befallen them.

His reply was, “No: they had their rifles and revolvers with ’em, and they ain’t likely to meet with nothin’ bigger ’n an antelope. They ought to be able to take keer of themselves, specially as the biggest one ain’t afraid of Injuns, no how.”

“That may be true,” replied I; “but they are boys, Jerry, and I think we ought to start at once in search of them. I feel confident, if nothing had happened, they would have returned before this.”

“Boys ain’t nothin’ but a nuisance, no how, and hain’t no business travlin’ on the plains. Howsoever, I’ll hev a couple of critters ketched up and saddled, and we’ll see if we kin strike their trail,” said Jerry.

The mules were immediately brought up, and Jerry and myself mounted, and set out in pursuit of the wanderers. In a short time we struck their trail, which led through the underbrush and bottom grass, along the banks of the river for a mile or more, and then turned in the direction of a large post-oak opening, three or four miles away.

The trail led us directly into the grove, where we were obliged to dismount, as the low, scraggy branches would not permit our riding beneath them. Securing our animals, we followed the trail on foot for some distance, when Jerry called my attention to a number of fresh tracks in the earth.

“Antelope tracks,” said I.

“No they ain’t neither; you must guess again. Them’s havilina tracks.”

“What are they?” inquired I.

“Them’s hogs,” replied Jerry; “wild Mexican hogs, and the darndest, ugliest critters on the plains, ef you git ’em riled. I’d rather meet a dozen Comanches, as far as comfort’s concarned, any time, than a drove of them critters. Yer see this’s their feedin’ ground, and I ’spect I know where ter find them boys.”

“Where?” inquired I.

“Up a tree,” replied Jerry. I reckon they’re treed this time, sartin; an’ good enough for ’em. Boys hain’t got no bizness on the plains, no how.”

“Well, Jerry, I brought the boys with me, and I calculate to take care of them, if possible,” was my reply.

“All right, judge; you’ll hev your hands full, I reckon. I’ll help you so fur’s I’m able; but don’t depend too much on me, fur boys hain’t got no bizness on the plains, no how.”

We continued our search for some time, when Jerry’s acute ear detected a sound in the distance which he declared was made by the “squealin’ critters;” and we hastened in the direction of the noise, which each moment grew more distinct. At length we came in sight of a large drove of the animals, gathered beneath the branches of a small, scraggy oak.

As soon as Jerry saw them, he burst into a loud laugh, exclaiming, “Jest as I ’spected, they’re treed, for sartin.”

“How do you know?” inquired I.

“Know! don’t yer see ’em squattin’ in that tree, thar?” said he, pointing to a dark object in the branches of the oak; “that’s them, for sartin.”

As we approached I halloed loudly, in the hope of diverting the attention of the hogs, if I did not succeed in letting the boys know’ we were near them; for the animals kept up such a squealing, that it was almost impossible to hear the sound of our own voices.

My efforts certainly were successful, so far as attracting the attention of the hogs; for a number started towards us, at a speed that was quite as wonderful as it was alarming; for I had no idea before, that hogs could be as active or as ferocious as these appeared to be.

As they came towards us, Jerry exclaimed,

“Take keer! take keer! we’d better look out;” and, without further explanation, he began to climb a tree.

I followed suit, and we were soon safely perched among the thick branches of a post-oak.

We had hardly reached a secure position when they were upon us. I must say that I never was more thankful for a place of refuge than when I saw the ferocious aspect of the gaunt, savage creatures. They crowded beneath the trees, with erect bristles, small, bloodshot eyes, gleaming white tusks, and frothing mouths, filling the air with their shrill cries, and striking the trunks such sturdy blows with their long, sharp tusks, that the trees fairly shook at each fresh assault.

They seemed as agile as cats, and occasionally one more ferocious than the others would bound up, until I began to think I should be obliged to leave the limb on which I was sitting.

As soon as we were fairly fixed on our perches, and had time to take a survey of the situation, we opened fire upon them to such good purpose that we killed nine with our revolvers. This wholesale slaughter seemed only to excite the fury of the others, for they commenced gnawing the trees so fiercely that Jerry became alarmed, and urged me to use all possible dispatch in reloading my pistol.

Fortunately there were only ten of the animals left, and these we finally managed to silence. After descending from the tree, I found Jerry in anything but an amiable mood, at “the idée of an old hunter like he was, bein’ treed by a lot of hogs;” and, as usual, he declared that “them cussid boys” was to blame, “for boys hadn’t no bizness on the plains, no how.”

By the exercise of considerable caution in approaching the herd, we managed to get quite near without attracting their attention; and I asked Jerry if it wasn’t strange that the boys gave no sign of being aware of our presence.

“Sign!” said Jerry; “how could they give any sign when I couldn’t hear my own shots? Why, the only way I knowed if thet pistol went off or not was by watchin’ fur the smoke: the critters kep’ up such a squealin’ that I couldn’t hear you speak a word. I’ll bet my hoss agin a chaw of terbacker that them boys hain’t heerd a shot we’ve fired, an’ dunno we’re within five miles on ’em.”

Taking advantage of our former experience, we approached as near and as quietly as possible, obtaining position beneath a tree, in the branches of which we could place ourselves if necessary, and then opened fire upon them with our revolvers, with such good effect, that the remainder of the herd took to their long legs and were soon out of sight.

When the last of them disappeared, the boys dropped to the ground; but so cramped were their limbs from their long confinement, that it was some time before they could stand. While they were getting “the kinks out of their legs,” as Jerry termed it, we counted our game and found twenty-two of the creatures dead, and the ground strewn with portions of flesh, bristles and bones, all bearing evidence of a fearful fray.

As the boys claimed to have killed but one of the creatures, we called upon them for an explanation; and, from their story, it appeared, that, shortly after leaving camp, Ned, who was in advance, had come upon a large flock of turkeys, and discharged one of the barrels of his gun at them without effect.

Soon afterwards they discovered the tracks of the havilinas. Supposing they were either antelope or deer tracks, they followed them into the grove, where they discovered the herd of hogs, quietly feeding upon the mast with which the ground was thickly strewn.

Without a moment’s hesitation Ned discharged the contents of his other barrel at the animals, thinking they were hogs that had escaped from some herd that had been driven across the country.

The shot did not penetrate their thick hides far enough to do anything but irritate and madden them, and the whole herd rushed towards the boys, who, frightened at their formidable appearance, jumped into the nearest tree, where they had been obliged to remain until released by us.

Once fairly out of reach of the infuriated creatures, they rather enjoyed the situation for a time; Hal feeling confident that he could, at any moment, frighten them away by the discharge of his rifle.

Finally, becoming tired of the fun, he discharged his rifle and killed his hog; but this only seemed to make the creatures more ferocious, and then, for the first time, the boys became really alarmed.

As hour after hour passed, and the hogs showed no disposition to depart, Hal began to despond, declaring that no help would reach them before they should starve. Ned, however, kept up heart, until the infuriated creatures began to devour the dead body of their comrade.

The smell of the blood and taste of the flesh maddened them to such a degree that they began a warfare among themselves, furiously striking at and cutting one another with their long, sharp tusks, killing and trampling under their feet the weaker, and then greedily devouring the dead; all the while filling the air with their sharp, shrill cries.

The boys, who had, up to this time, been hoping that assistance would come from some source, were about giving up in despair, when they witnessed the slaughter made by our revolvers and knew that succor had at last arrived.

As soon as they were able to walk, we guided them to the spot where we had left our mules, and placed them in the saddles, directing them to camp; Jerry and myself resolving to walk.

Shouldering our rifles, we started towards the bank of the river, believing it to be a shorter route than the way we had come. Although it was fast growing dark, we had no fear but that by this route we should reach camp quite as soon as the boys.

While passing through a grove of pecan trees, about a couple of miles from camp, my attention was suddenly arrested by the cry of some person, apparantly in distress.

“Hark, Jerry,” said I; “did you hear that? Some one’s in trouble wait a minute.”

“Thunder! judge, hain’t you been in Texas long enough to know a painter’s yell when you hear it? That was a reg’lar out-and-out painter you heard. I’ve ”

Just at this moment, a prolonged, heart-rending wail trembled upon the stillness of the evening air: so piercing, yet so plaintive, was it, that it sent a shudder through my frame I have not forgotton to this day.

“That critter ain’t very far off,” exclaimed Jerry. “Mebbe we’ll git a shot at him; though they’re nasty things to hunt at night, fer yer can’t see ’em, they lay so clus onto the limbs.”

“Did you ever kill one?” asked I.

“Yes, four on ’em; the last one was down on the Sabinal, just about a year this time. I was ”

At this point, he was again interrupted by the animal’s cry; this time so near, that we both stopped short and cocked our rifles, for it seemed as though he could be but a few feet from us.

“I tell you one thing, Jerry, I don’t much like walking through this grove, with one of those creatures so near; I’d rather take to the open prairie. Besides, it’s getting so dark I can’t see anything.”

“Pshaw! yer ain’t afraid o’ one of them critters, be yer? You jest foller me; they never trouble any one unless they’re hungry.”

“But this one may be hungry,” suggested I.

“Well, never you fear, you jest foller me,” said Jerry, starting on.

I followed as quickly as possible; but had hardly taken a dozen steps, ere I heard a quick exclamation, as of pain or surprise from Jerry’s lips, accompanied by a low, snarling growl, followed by a sound like that produced by two persons rolling on the ground together. There was violent breathing, angry ejaculations, the crashing of underbrush, and, before I had time to think what it meant, I caught sight of a dark mass, evidently rolling over and over upon the ground, a few feet in advance of me. I could not distinguish what it was in the darkness, but suddenly caught sight of two balls of living fire.

Bringing my rifle to my shoulder, and scarcely pausing to take aim or to reflect upon the consequences of the shot, I fired.

The next moment Jerry sprang to his feet with a

“Thunder! that was a tight squeak, and no mistake. Ef you hadn’t fired when you did, it’d been all up with me afore this time. The critter didn’t give me no fair show; he lit right onter my shoulder here, and’s tared it some I reckon, by the feel; howsoever, we kin git at it easy anyway, but if it hadn’t a bin for them boys well, boys haint got no bizness on the plains, no how.”

I made an examination of the wounded shoulder, as well as I could in the darkness, and found that the creature’s claws had entirely stripped it of clothing, besides badly lacerating the flesh.

Jerry declared, ’twasn’t much, no how; and he could walk to camp as well as not. As soon as we arrived there, I made a more thorough examination, dressed the arm carefully, and was soon utterly oblivious of the fatigues of the previous forty-eight hours.